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Part of Skipper’s job was to notice things. Typically, this meant things like trip wires or snipers, and after years of constantly having to be aware of things, it meant that he noticed things even when his life wasn’t on the line.
Case and point: the rocks that had started to accumulate on the bookshelf in Marlene’s apartment.
It had started with one barely the size of a quarter, but it was such a rich blue that it caught his eye immediately. A few weeks later another stone was also rather small, but a rich green with white bands. The next few that followed her decidedly plain compared to the first two. It wasn’t until he saw a glittering chunk of purple that he dared to ask.
“So, what with all the rocks Marlene?”
“Oh, it’s kind of embarrassing,” Marlene started, feeling her face flush as she watched Skipper examine her collection.
“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen victim to new-age hippy tactics.”
“No, nothing like that...or maybe a little like that but not in the way you think. It’s more the new age mindset of healing your inner child.”
“Explain.”
“As a kid I collected rocks, which I get is standard and not all that special, but I was obsessed and wanted to take all the rocks home. Especially if it was a type I hadn't seen before. Not only would I fill my pockets, but I’d also cuff my pants to try to bring more home with me.”
“I bet that made every trip to the park fun.”
“My parents hated it. It’d be a full shakedown before I was allowed in the car or house. They let me some fossils on occasion to help curb the habit, which worked for a while, but I was still a menace. If I wasn’t allowed to go out and hunt rocks, then I was reading about them and became even more fascinated by the ones used for pigments. It was bad, for a while as a teenager, I kind of bought into the crystal energy mumbo jumbo.”
“Now that is embarassing considering you’d argue with me that ghosts don’t exist.”
“Because they don’t,” Marlene crossed her arms and glared at him.
“We’re not starting this again. Keep telling me what went wrong with your rock collection.”
“Long story short: High school girls are mean and my parents told me that if I wanted the bullying to stop then I needed to get rid of the rocks.” There was no hiding hurt in her voice. Even 20 odd years later it still stung that her parents had sided with her bullies instead of encouraging her to be herself. There had been harsher words exchanged that day, and sharp comments about geology being a waste of a career. “So, I tossed all of my collection outside and buried it.”
Skipper picked up the small blue stone and looked at Marlene with pride. “Good on you for rebelling against your parents.”
Marlene laughed a little at the comment. It was hardly her first act of rebellion at this point. Considering how unhappy her parents had been when she decided to pursue a degree in the arts and the outright disappointment when they caught a glimpse of the tattoo along her ribs.
“They’re used to it by now.”
“So, what’s this one?”
“Lapiz Lazuli: the original source for ultramarine and one of the very few sources for a naturally occurring blue.” Marlene gently took the stone from Skipper. “However, that’s not why I bought it. I just so happened to be going to that ‘hippy’ you love.”
“Ugh, I loathe that place. You and Rixo always come back reeking of patchouli.”
Marlene rolled her eyes and continued her story as she put the stone back on the shelf. “Anyway, I wanted to restock some incense when I spotted it. You were on the mission at the time, and I hadn’t seen your weeks and the second I saw the stone it reminded me of your eyes.”
Now Skipper could feel the tips of his ears burning, and he tried to play off the way his heart had started to jackhammer. “So, you started picking up pebbles because you missed me?”
“I mean, you are a penguin,” Marlene teased and leaned against him as she looked over various rocks and semi-precious stones. “But I also just missed my collection. Feels like I found a part of me that was missing. This time it’s just more meaningngful."
Skipper wrapped an arm around her and vaguely recalled some documentary saying that there was something about otters having favorite rocks but chose not to voice the potential comparison. “Tell me about the others.”